Dangerous at Best
by Not Here Dont Talk to Me
Summary: Sequel to Wings and Wands Collide. Max is gone. Captured. They're falling apart without her. How is it that so much could go wrong in one day? They're on the move, and it's the flock's  plus wizard's  job to stop Them.
1. Chapter 1 Helpless

**Hello everybody. I finally got this up!**

**If anyone is unaware, this is the sequel to When Wings and Wands Collide, so if anyone is new to this and hasn't read that, go do it! Now! And review it please, as well.**

**So, this is the prologue. Why is it the prologue? Because it's too short to be a chapter. No, seriously. My minimum chapter length is 1500 words, and this is no exception. So, instead, it gets to be the prologue!**

**Enjoy, hopefully.**

**Max POV**

**Day: 2**

_Tap. Tap. Tap._

My hand beat a steady rhythm on the hard stone ground as I stared off into space, thinking hard.

My leg was throbbing painfully and my ragged old jeans were crusty and stiff with all the dried blood that had accumulated on my thigh when I'd been shot there when everything had happened. The blood had long since stopped flowing, but having a gaping hole in your leg is never going to feel great.

_Tap. Tap. Tap._

Two days. It had been two days since it had all happened. Two days since everything had taken a turn for the worst. Two days since Gazzy and Nudge had been captured by those werewolf-human hybrids. Two days since the Director had shot me in the leg during my attempt to rescue my mother from her evil grasp. Two days since Voldemort and the Director decided to take me in and presumably do evil, heartless things to me.

It's been two days since all these things occurred. And yet... nothing's happened.

The cell that I was placed in hasn't been disturbed since I was put in it, and that's made me more than a bit worried. None of the Director's werewolf minions have arrived to take me away for some of the Director's horrible, gut-wrenching experiments, nor have either the Director or Voldemort have made an appearance to torment me.

In fact, I haven't even been given food or water to drink for the entire duration of my stay. The food isn't much of a problem – I've had worse. But the lack of fluid has made my throat so parched that every time I breathe it in it feels like harsh sand paper is running all over the back of my throat.

_Tap. Tap. Tap._

Naturally, this lack of communication has made me so twitchy and suspicious that every tiny movement makes me jump. For instance, the mouse that just scampered out from a little hole in the wall and under the miniscule gap between the solid wooden door and the stone floor made me leap as high as the chains binding my arms would let me.

_Tap. Tap. Tap._

I have to wonder whether the silence between me and my captors is a strange form of torture in itself. The Director and Voldemort are both admittedly smart, albeit deranged. They'd know that being clueless about what's going on would put me on edge. They must be aware that I'm desperate to know what's going on in the outside world – what's happened to Mom and the flock, where the hell am I, what about Harry, Ron and Hermione... It could be that they are deliberately keeping the information from me, just to make sure that I'm as unstable as possible when they eventually arrive to collect me. It seems like just the thing those evil maniacs would do.

And the worst part is, there's nothing I can do it about it.

The fact is that I'm trapped here. Without assistance, then the only way I'm going to get out of this place is in the arms of my captors. Both my arms and legs are tied to the wall and there's no way anyone without a key is getting in this place. I should know, I've spent the last three days scouring it with my eyes, searching for a place that might just grant me freedom. But there's nothing, absolutely nothing. The walls seem to be solid. There is a tiny – _tiny _– window at the top which is one of the few things allowing me to breath and then there's the door and the floor, which are both obviously impenetrable. It's a pretty sucky situation overall, really.

_Tap. Tap. Tap._

I'm on the edge, just about ready to break. The treatment that these people are giving me in this place is having remarkably similar effects on me as that isolation tank, way back when I'd been replaced by a clone, Max II. And we all know how I was when I came out of _that _experience. A total mess. And that time I was only guarded by weak human whitecoats. This time, not only are there highly evolved mutants to keep me in check, the Director and Voldemort most likely wouldn't even _need _the mutants to control me. I hate feeling powerless, but I'm realistic enough to know that I'm in a bad position.

What are these people doing to me?

Why have they not come for me yet?

When _will _they come for me?

My hand kept tapping its steady beat against the ground as all these thoughts churned through my mind.

_Tap. Tap. Tap._

**Hmm. This doesn't seem like a prologue, just a very, very short chapter. I **_**really **_**don't like that. Either way, I'm saying it's the prologue, and you're believing it's a prologue, got it?**

**I'm not sure how I feel about this. It's mediocre. Not the best, not the worst.**

**Anyways, I wanna get to 1000 words at least, so I'm just gonna keep talking for a little bit... don't worry, we are close. Only fifty words to go. Hi. How are you guys today? I'm good myself, although tired. (It's one o'clock in the morning. What do you expect?) I think I'll go to bed after I post this. In case you guys were wondering, I could've had this up ages ago, but I didn't think it was good enough. Yeah. That's my excuse. And we made it to 1000 words! Now I can post!**

**Do you like it? Or not?**

**Either way, review please. :)**


	2. Chapter 2 Waiting

**-gasp- What's this? Could I possibly be updating? **_**No.**_** Impossible.**

**I'm not going to give excuses, I have none. I'll just give you the chapter.**

**Enjoy. :)**

_How long is this waiting game going to go on? _The Director thought in impatience as she watched the bird-freak sleep on the hard stone floor through the fish-eye camera in the freak's cell. Max didn't know that the camera was there; how could she? She'd been chained to the wall from the start. It was small enough that it was only visible from a meter away.

She sighed in her sleep and her long, tangled blonde hair flopped in her face. The Director frowned. She hadn't been fed yet. It was three days after she'd been captured. She needed water at the very least, or keeping her in the cell would all be in vain – she'd die.

'Minions!' the Director called, not turning from the computer screen. She heard the door open behind her and twisted to face the two werewolf hybrid guards that had entered the office. 'I want you to contact the guards at Nurmengard. Tell them to give the freak water. Nothing else, just water. Understand?'

They nodded and she dismissed them with a hand motion, turning back to the screen. She wondered how people would react if they knew that Maximum Ride was being held in the same prison as Gellert Grindelwald, most famous Dark wizard of all time. After My Lord, of course. They'd more than likely freak. Try to get her out of there, no matter the cost. After all, being in the presence of somebody so powerful would surely scare them.

The Director scowled as she thought of the prison's name. Nurmengard. _For the Greater Good._ Grindelwald had built the prison. He had named it that. The Director knew the back story, and she hated Grindelwald with a passion. _For the greater good, _she sneered in her mind. Because she was a 'Muggle', she was inferior, now, was she? Yeah, right. She was smarter than he would _ever _be. She was the one who had commandeered the genetic experiments in the first place. She highly doubted that _Grindelwald _would have been able to do that. If she managed to get herself stuck in her own prison, she'd find a way out. But instead, he'd let himself be defeated by that Dumbledore and now he was there until he died.

A thought struck the Director suddenly. What if _Max _managed to get out of her cell? She was smart too, and Janssen knew that she was able to use whatever resources she had to her advantage. She had been programmed that way. What if she got out of her cell? And found Grindelwald's? What would happen then? The Director had no idea. Would they fight, be enemies, and would Max end up hurting or even killing him? After he lost his wand, he was pretty useless in the self-defence department. But maybe... maybe they'd work together. Maybe they'd work to defeat the Director and the Dark Lord.

They were variables, and the Director didn't know which way it would go.

All the more reason to stop Max from escaping.

The Director's thoughts switched to the Dark Lord. Voldemort. She would never say it aloud in a million years, but Voldemort scared the Director. And _nothing _scared the Director. He had it over her. He had managed to convince her that they had equal amounts of power at the start, but by now she knew that she was being used. Voldemort was in the same position as Grindelwald had been. He considered Muggles a step below wizards. Again, the fiery pit of anger bubbled in the Director's stomach and she gritted her teeth. At least the Muggles actually used their _brains _every once in a while. Wizards just used _magic _to fix everything. Bastards.

But the fact was that even though the Director knew that the Dark Lord was manipulating her, there was nothing she could do about it. If she spoke out he would kill her without even blinking. She knew he would. It wasn't like he hadn't done it before. He was ruthless and heartless and cold and practically the _definition _of evil.

The Director didn't want to die.

She sighed at stopped her thoughts in mid track. It was dangerous to think things like that. Who knew – maybe Voldemort had stolen the mind reading ability from the littlest bird-freak. The Director wouldn't even be surprised.

She turned her eyes back to the computer screen where it was still showing the cell and Max's immobile form. She waited for the werewolf hybrids to give her the water, trying to focus. This had been happening too often lately. Her thoughts would wander into dangerous territory and she'd have to struggle to bring herself back to the present. It was annoying. Where had all her concentration gone? It's like it had just decided to go on a holiday in Hawaii for a while.

She watched as the door swung open and two guards entered. Max didn't move, but the Director knew that she would be awake at this point. Her paranoia and heightened nerves would ensure that she would wake up at the slightest sound.

One of the hybrids walked over to Max and kicked her harshly in the ribs. The Director winced. That would have hurt; the werewolf hybrids were even stronger than the Erasers had been. Max jerked and her eyes popped open. She didn't give away any pain if she felt it, but instead fixed the hybrid with a dagger-like glare. Scary. It didn't matter that her face was pale with the lack of food or that she was covered in dirt, she still managed to be freaky as all hell.

When it was clear that Max was conscious, the other hybrid, who had been holding the dirty bottle of water in his hand, strode over to her and dropped the bottle in her lap.

She looked at it disdainfully as the hybrids went to leave and then just as they were about to slam the door once more, shouted something out to them.

They paused at the door and looked back at her and then at each other. The Director frowned. It was at times like these that a microphone would come in handy. She had visual, but no sound. That would have to be corrected.

One of the hybrids trotted back over to Max and unlocked one of her handcuffs so that she was able to pick up the water bottle and drink from it. Then, they were gone.

I sat back in my chair and continued to watch.

_How long is the waiting game going to go on?_

Fang sat in the chair and studied the people surrounding him. The mood was gloomy, there wasn't a doubt about it. Nudge, Iggy and Gazzy would hardly do anything all day, just sit around and mope. Much like him, he had to admit. He'd found Nudge crying in her room several times and Iggy and Gazzy hadn't made a bomb since she was taken. He was at loss with what to do with them. Angel was like a wild card now. She seemed unstable, almost. Sometimes she would be angry with what had happened, sometimes she'd burst into tears and then there were the times where it seemed like she didn't care at all.

Harry, Ron and Hermione were better; they'd really only just met Max, in relative terms. They were affected by it, sure, but nowhere near as much as the flock. They were sad, yes, they wanted to get her back, yes, but did they really know what it felt like to lose someone as important as Max? No.

And himself... he didn't even know. He felt at loss without Max beside him. Like he'd lost his left hand or something. It was a weird feeling. He was sad, but he didn't cry. He was angry, but he didn't shout.

He was truly at loss without Max.

He sighed. This _sucked._

Three days now. It had only been three days since the incident in London had occurred, but already he felt as though the flock was falling apart. He was supposed to be leading them, making the decisions now that Max was there to make them for him. And he had been trying, he really had. But they all knew that he wasn't half the leader Max was. And that was why they needed to get her back as soon as possible.

'Fang?' Nudge's voice cut through the thick silence that had descended on the room and he turned his head to look at her, raising an eyebrow in question.

'When are we going to see Dr Martinez again?'

Fang sighed. That was a good question. Ever since they'd found Max's mum in London and brought her back to Arizona with them, which was where they were now, in Dr M's home, she had been completely unresponsive. Completely. The hospital where she was staying had no idea what was wrong with her; they were dumbstruck. Coma? They suggested. But her brain level showed a much higher activity rate than someone in a coma, the flock would argue back. And so they were stumped.

Hermione had suggested taking the vet to a place called St Mungo's, but Fang didn't even know what that was. So he refused. Of course.

'When Jeb comes back,' Fang promised Nudge and she sat back in her chair, satisfied.

That was another thing. When they had arrived at Dr M's place to see Ella, they were surprised to find that Jeb was also there and he'd apparently been living with Ella ever since Valencia had disappeared. He'd stopped her from sending letters to the flock informing them of her disappearance, but he wouldn't explain why. The flock hadn't exactly been pleased to see him, to say the least, but they'd grudgingly let him hang around for a while. After all, he had the car and the money.

Fang sighed again and dropped his head into his hands. If Max was here, she'd know what to do about this.

They needed her back. Badly.

**And... that's a wrap! I didn't edit this chapter at all because I wanted to get it up and it's really late, but hopefully it ain't too bad. In case you didn't notice, I'm trying a new format to the one I had back in When Wings and Wands Collide. Instead of writing in first person all the time like I did in that story, only Max's POV will be in first person for this one. Everyone else will be in third person.**

**Kinda fillerish, but hey, there's some foreshadowing there if you squint. ;)**

**So? How'd I do?**

**REVIEW! :)**


	3. Chapter 3 Experiment

**...I AM SO, SO, SO, SO SORRY. I ditched you all for so long! :O It's school. I be hating it. Also, I've got no inspiration for this story so far (I am yet, to construct a real outline), so with no solid plot line I can't bring myself to be writing this...**

**Anyway, I am 99% certain that you all have just forgotten about this story and nobody's actually reading this, but I'll go on.**

**Enjoy? If anyone **_**is **_**reading?**

**Max POV**

It was on day four that they finally came for me. By 'they' I mean the weird werewolf hybrid creatures that the Director had cooked up; both Voldemort and the Director herself remained annoyingly elusive.

I was sleeping when they arrived, sitting as comfortably as I could with my back shoved up against the cold brick wall and my arms held above me like dead limbs, all feeling having long deserted them. Over the past three nights I had managed to get maybe ten hours of sleep in total – sitting in such a strange position called for some major wriggling to actually get to sleep. It was hard, 'kay?

The door slammed open and banged off the solid walls just as I managed to nod off, awakening me and instantly sending me into a _very _irritated mood. I scowled at the two werewolves standing above me. 'I was _trying _to sleep,' I snapped at them, somehow attempting to look fierce while sitting on the floor, chained up, utterly helpless. 'Come back in about ten hours.'

They didn't respond. Not that I expected them to. Instead, the first one took a key in his hand and shoved it roughly into the lock holding my arms together, grazing my hand on the way past. 'Hey!' I protested as he popped the chains open and dragged me into a standing position.

Once I was up, I attempted to support myself on my own two feet, only to find that obviously three days that they hadn't been in use had taken its toll and I was about as wobbly as a newborn calf. So much for being able to run away.

The two goons took a hold of each of my arms and towed me out the door quickly and painfully, me stumbling all the while, trying not to trip and fall. I scowled at their uncaring nature – it wasn't like they didn't know what I was saying.

Outside of the room, I was not much surprised to see that the hallway I was in looked just like the cell I had just left, only longer. It was all colourless and hard brick lining the walls and the floor. I wondered what type of person would build a place like this. It was so... lifeless. Obviously, prisons aren't supposed to be all cheery and puppies and rainbows, but seriously. Lighten up, man.

The two werewolf cronies pulled me along the hallway while I looked around, wondering where they were taking me. Was I finally going to see the Director? Or maybe I was moving cells, or even prisons? Or maybe the two of them had had a mutiny and were releasing me? Hah. Like that would ever happen. They were brainless cronies, useless for nothing but following orders.

We turned a corner and I saw a staircase heading downward up ahead, spiralling into blackness. Ooh. Ominous.

They led me down it and so enough we emerged into a room that was radically different from the design found above it. Instead of all grey brick and torturous chains, this place was stark white and held the unmistakeably sterile smile of a medical facility that made my heart race and my nose itch like crazy. In the middle of the room was a cold metal table, gleaming under the bright lights above it. Other than that, the room was empty.

Eyeing the table, I glanced around nervously, feeling a sweat rise to my skin. I didn't like this. It was too much like the School. I could only imagine what they had in store for me in this damn place.

I looked at the werewolf hybrids on either side of me. 'Hey, um, guys?' I said nervously, licking my lips. 'You, um, do know what this room is for... right? So, uh, how about you get some compassion for a fellow mutant just like yourselves and, uh... let me go?'

I was ignored. Typical.

I decided to change tactics. 'Alright, Tweedledee and Tweedledum, how about you let me go right now or I'll kick your ass 'till the middle of next week. How does that sound, hmm?'

One of them glanced at me but other than that I was given no response. The other one let go of my arm and strode over to the other side of the room, where a CCTV camera was hanging from the ceiling, a small red light blinking near the lens. He reached up and tapped it and then came back over to Werewolf No.1 and me. He reached for my arm and I jerked it back hurriedly. He frowned and tried again, so I leaned forward and slapped him on the cheek, hard, my eyes narrowed. He reeled backward, blinking in surprise and I felt No.1's grip on me tighten to the point where it was starting to hurt. I hissed at the pain.

Werewolf No.2 had recovered from the surprise slap and now he dug in his pocket for something, barking orders at No.1 in a raspy growl that I was unable to understand. I didn't even realise that they were able to talk.

No.1's hand tightened even further on my arm and he started to pull me towards the metal table, ignoring my struggling protests. Damn, he was strong. Too strong for me.

He shoved me onto the table and easily held me down by both shoulders, undeterred by my outcries that were fast becoming desperate. I glanced over at No.2 and my eyes widened as I saw that he was approaching me with a open needle, his face completely emotionless.

'No – ' I began to say, but then I felt the tell-tale prick and my consciousness fled within seconds, leaving me in the black.

**xxx**

The first thing I noticed when I woke up was that my head was pounding. It hurt. A lot. It felt like someone had gotten a baseball bat a whacked me over the head with it about twenty times. Never gonna feel good.

The second thing I noticed was that I wasn't in my normal spot, chained up against the wall with my arms hanging above me. Instead, I was lying on something hard and cold, my cheek pressed against the smooth surface. The... table?

The room was silent except for my own heartbeat and I let a tiny groan escape my mouth. God, my head. What exactly had they done to it?

I tried to sit up and open my eyes, but I soon realised that I could barely move. Whatever drug they had given me had left me not only out cold, but had also left me pretty much paralysed. I could move my finger, almost. If I really tried.

There was a sound off to my left that reminded me of a door opening and closing and then there were the footsteps of a high heeled boot coming towards me until they stopped about a foot from where I lay. With tremendous effort, I forced my eyes open and I wasn't surprised to see the Director hovering above me with a clip board in her hand, surveying me with a cool, distant gaze.

A tiny smile flashed on her lips when my eyes connected with hers. 'Miss Ride,' she said. 'Glad to see you are awake. We were worried that my minion gave you an overdose of my special little drug.' She reached into her white lab coat and pulled out a syringe identical to the one No.2 had given me before. She examined it closely before looking back at me. 'A very simple invention of mine. A cocktail of morphine, local anaesthetic and a small amount of paralysis tic venom. Dangerous, yes. But effective.'

I forced myself to roll my eyes at her and she frowned. 'Obviously not effective _enough.'_

She tapped a heel on the ground and glanced down at her clipboard. 'The paralysis should wear off soon enough. Then you will be taken back to your cell.' She smiled at me. 'We will begin viewing the effects of today's experimentation over the next week. Hopefully, it has been a success. But there is more than enough room for it to go disastrously wrong.' Her smile turned cruel.

I desperately wanted to ask exactly _what _she had done to me, but no matter how hard I tried, I just couldn't make my lips move to form the words I wanted to say.

The Director smiled once more. 'Have a nice time, Max.'

And then I was alone once again.

**Anyone wanna guess what just happened? ;)**

**Review... please.**


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